


Hallelujah Indeed

by naarna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, Denial of Feelings, F/M, HP Drizzle Fest 2016, HP: EWE, Inspired by Music, Love Potion/Spell, Raining Men, Spell Failure, Thunder and Lightning, Toothbrush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: After a love spell has gone wrong, Draco shows up in Hermione's bedroom every night for a week. Investigations into this matter lead to revelations both never expected...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of thanks to freebuckbeak for proof reading and giving feedback, it's highly appreciated! :-)

**Monday**  
It was late in the evening, and Hermione was in her bathroom getting ready for bed after a long and exhausting day at work. Her evening routine always included the ritual of brushing through her hair to keep it from tangling up, and thinking about the next day while brushing her teeth. The final step usually was cleaning her face and then put on her facial cream, but tonight she didn't get as far. She was still brushing her teeth, and mentally going through the meeting she was supposed to attend the next morning, when she first felt the air charging up as if a storm was brewing in her flat, only to hear a thundering sound come from her bedroom moments later. And then, to top the weirdness of it all, she heard a mumbled trail of swearwords thrown around in a voice that she most definitely remembered – she would recognise that sneer everywhere. Annoyed, and with her tooth brush still in her hand, she returned to her bedroom. “What the hell are you–?”

“YOU? Of all people I landed in _your_ room, Granger?”

“Malfoy, stop shouting! I _do_ have neighbours, and I'm not in the mood to explain them why they heard a pig squealing in my flat...” She pointed at him repeatedly with her tooth brush to emphasise her words.

Draco got up immediately after the first shock had worn off. “What the hell have you done? Pulling me from a night out with friends–”

“Friends? Bah!” She glared at him, knowing exactly that he was about to throw her an insult.

“I know you haven't been laid for a freakishly long time, Granger, but _this_ goes too far, even for you–”

“Shut up, Malfoy!” She came closer to the bed where he was still standing, taking a look around in her bed room, her tooth brush still pointed at him. “I have done nothing. I wasn't even thinking about your stupid arse when you showed up in my bed, all swearing and insulting. And for how long I have or haven't been laid is none of your bloody business–”

“Well, you won't get laid in _this_ anyway, you can do better than that–”

“I said, shut it!” She didn't care that he was almost a head taller than she was, she knew the body parts where a hex or even a simple punch would hurt the most – and she wasn't afraid to hit him there. “For all I know it could have been you zapping yourself into my bedroom... At least I don't need to bury myself in another woman every other night just to forget my oh so pitiful existence, unlike _you–_ ”

“Rumours! Just fucking rumours!” he spat. “You know nothing about my life, so shut it–”

“You know I couldn't care less whether they are true or not. Get out!” She pointed at the door with her tooth brush, glaring straight back at him, not accepting any further defiance or – even less so – insults.

“Happy to oblige, Granger!” With an annoyed growl, he stormed out into the living room where he knew she would have a fireplace with a Floo connection; every decent wizard or witch had such an exit.

“Finally!” Hermione exclaimed when she saw his tall figure disappear in the green flames, though wondering for a moment how he did end up in her bed room as they both denied having done something. It was most definitely an occurrence worth looking into.

 

**Tuesday**  
“It's raining men! Hallelujah... It's raining men...” Ever since she had heard the song on the Muggle wireless in the morning, Hermione had been humming it all day long. By the evening, it was slowly driving her insane, and she had been trying to get it out of her head by listening to the wireless again while getting ready for bed earlier. She was now reading a bit to relax after that stressful day that had unsurprisingly turned into an endless series of meetings about those heaped reports about an increase of love spells mishaps, most of them indicating that there seemed to be problem with the ingredients, and her department had been tasked to investigate it. “It's raining men...” She groaned when she realised that the song was still stuck in her head. Maybe she should just call it a day and go to sleep? She was reading the same page in her otherwise interesting old-fashioned crime story over and over again anyway, and she had already started yawning violently. So she put the book back on the night-stand, but when she was about to put out the small light on her night-stand, she noticed that the air around her started to get charged again, just like the evening before. And seconds later, there was the same thundering sound again. Definitely not a good sign. “YOU AGAIN!” she yelled when she saw who had just materialised next to her.

“STOP SCREAMING, GRANGER!” Draco retorted and sat up from his landing position in her bed. “It's not enough that you had to do it once, you had to repeat it. And this time I'm sure you did it to piss me off!”

“You-You're naked!” she finally screeched after the first shock of his sudden reappearance had worn off; her eyes were glued to his barely covered form.

“I was about to take a shower,” he retorted, noticing her stare. “So yes, I'm _almost_ naked. Please stop staring.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get up.

Hermione couldn't help but taking in stripped-down figure, her eyes glued to the muscles on his back, following their outlines. She had to admit quietly that she very much liked what she saw – even after all those years he still maintained a surprisingly athletic body, lean and strong. And for a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to let her hand run over his skin, and over these muscles.

“I said stop staring, Granger,” he commented when he turned halfway around and noticed her more than interested gaze. “I know you're desperate–”

“I'm not desperate!” she retorted, throwing him an icy glare, partly because she felt slightly disappointed that he was still wearing his boxers. “Looks more like you are–”

“I told you I was about to take a shower, don't you ever listen?” He now turned completely around, smirking broadly. “I'm still not convinced that you haven't done anything to cause this,” he continued, coming closer.

“Don't,” she warned him, close to growling threateningly.

“What? Don't tell me you weren't considering a taste,” he teased her, ignoring her growl, and leaned in further before taking another close look, his grin broadening. And then he surprised her with a kiss.

Hermione was so shocked in the first moment that she didn't react when she felt his tongue being shoved in. God, she hadn't been kissed in bloody ages, and for a second she was tempted to kiss him back with the same passion he was showing. But then she remembered who was actually kissing her, and she pushed him off again.

“What? Didn't like it?” Draco asked, shortly looking dejected, and then hid it behind another smirk.

“OUT!” She climbed out of her bed, and grabbed his arm to drag him out. “I've had enough of your impertinent and absolutely insulting behaviour. The way you just acted I think _you're_ more desperate to get laid again, you jerk!” Still holding his arm firmly, she dragged him through her living room, past the fireplace, to the main door to throw him out. God, yes, throwing him out like this was what he deserved, not elegantly leaving through the fireplace!

“What the hell, Granger? You know full well that I don't have my wand with me! GRANGER! Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I said out!” she retorted, and opened the door.

“No!”

“Out!” And with a bit of effort, she managed to push him out. “You think you can just kiss me like that? Ever heard of consent and mutual liking to do that?”

“I got the impression that you liked it–”

“Just leave, you insensitive jerk!” she retorted, and started to close the door.

“Wait! You really expect me to walk home _like this_?” He tried to stop her, but didn't succeed against her angry determination. “Granger! The fuck, open the door! I'm not going to walk to the next available Floo exit half-naked–”

“You would probably make a few ladies happy if you did,” she retorted from inside her flat; she could hear him hammer rather desperately against it, and she couldn't help but grin for a moment.

“GRANGER! Merlin, I didn't know you were such an old-fashioned prude that you couldn't take a joke...” He continued hammering against the door. “I won't stop until you let me back in to use your fireplace.”

Hermione started to feel amused about his situation, as he was still standing in his underwear in the hallway to her flat. “You know, Ms. Halloway upstairs would love to take you in for the night, you're just her type...”

“GRANGER! Let me back in, or this has consequences–”

“What? You don't have your wand with you, and for all I care, you broke into my flat. So, you'd be the one getting into trouble.” She heard him groan and then mutter something inaudible.

After a few more minutes of letting him hammer relentlessly against her door in his frustration, Hermione finally opened it again, not bothering to hide her smirk at all. “You will keep your mouth shut except for your destination, or you can indeed find the next available Floo exit _half-naked_.”

He let out a sigh, sounding defeated, and nodded in agreement.

 

**Wednesday**  
That evening, Hermione had brought some work back home, as she didn't want to sit in her office until late. All day long, reports had come in about similar incidents as she had experienced already two nights in a row with Malfoy. Harry and Ron had been tasked with the investigations into this new series of love spell problems, but she had become curious when they had told her more details from their cases during their shared lunch break, with Malfoy sitting several tables away, completely ignoring her. But yes, all the cases seemed similar, her situation included – the wizards always showed up in the bed of unsuspecting witches, all at the same time apparently, and both sides adamantly stated that they hadn't cast any spell nor used any love potion to attract the other in some way or other. She was still reading through the witness accounts when she felt the hairs on her arms stand on end again, and the air in her flat felt charged, just like the two nights before. “Not again,” she murmured, and turned her head to look at the clock on her wall. With a sigh, she noticed that it was the same time as in every case, half past ten in the evening. And just like before, she heard the now familiar sound of a thunder going off in her bedroom, followed moments later by the now familiar flood of swear words. She let out another weary sounding sigh, and waited for him to come out of her bed room.

“YOU!”

“What did I do wrong this time?” she retorted wearily, without even looking up from the files in front of her.

“Seriously, Granger? A _third_ time? I thought you had your fair share to last you another year–”

“Malfoy, if you would simply check the case board at work then you would know that it's not me.” She finally looked up, only to discover to her disappointment that he was dressed tonight, though in surprisingly comfortable looking slacks. She wouldn't have minded to get another close look at that tempting body of his, though. After all, he was intruding into her flat every night anyway, so why not let her enjoy it at least a bit?

“I don't work in the same sub-department as you, how am I supposed to know what cases you're currently working on?” Draco came over to table and pulled a file from the pile to skim through it. “Those the cases?”

“Yes.”

“And they only started coming in yesterday?” he asked, reading through the witness account in the file before him.

Hermione nodded. “All cases happened the night before, all at the exactly same time, and all swear that they haven't dabbled in any love spell or potion to cause such a thing.”

“Don't you think that it is curious that all those cases only happened yesterday, while I already showed up on Monday for the first time, despite the apparent similarities?” Draco mused, putting the file back on the pile and looking at her.

She shrugged. “Harry and Ron are working on it, I just got curious when they told me about it–”

“As always doing their work for them,” he remarked, smirking.

“No, I just want to have my peace again at night.”

“I see. As much as I love our banter, I need to go back. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I was interrupted in my preparations.” He pointed towards her fireplace. “You don't mind me using it again?”

“As always, leaving everything to the last minute,” she remarked sarcastically, and nodded.

“Ah, see, that's where you're wrong...” He took a handful of Floo Powder from the pot next to her fireplace, and stepped inside. “See you 'round, Granger.” And then disappeared into the green flames.

 

**Thursday**  
Draco's remark had the effect he had intended, as it was stuck in Hermione's head all night and all morning until she could no longer resist to check his hunch out just to make sure, and maybe also a little bit to disprove the annoying know-it-all. Oh yes, Hermione had wanted to disprove Draco; she was still somewhat annoyed that he had dared to kiss her on Tuesday. However, what annoyed her more was the fact that she had actually liked the way he was kissing her until her brain had caught up with the situation. For that moment, it had been a wonderful kiss, and the passion he had put in it had felt real, as if he wanted to show her something. What if she had reacted differently that night?

And then she decided to do some research on him as well, mostly because she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. She had never bothered before to dig deeper because she had always considered him to just be the same arrogant git he had always been. But then she talked with his office partner, a Muggle-born witch, during a coffee break, and was astonished to hear what the other told her – that he was actually a very considerate and reliable work partner, and that she loved his sense of humour; and she added that she would have tried her luck with him if he hadn't already been in love with someone else, though she didn't know who it was. What if she had indeed acted differently that night? Hadn't she been just as presumptuous and arrogant towards him as he had been towards her all that time? And hadn't she sometimes wondered what it would be like to be with him?

 

So, that evening, she was prepared for his arrival, with a couple of beers on her dining table and her own private case file ready. And of course, as soon as the clock over her fireplace showed half past ten again, she could feel the air charge up as if another storm was about to hit her flat, and moments later she could hear the thunder go off in her bedroom, followed by only a surprisingly minimal amount of swearing this time.

“I was somewhat expecting you to be in bed already,” he commented dryly when he finally came out of her bedroom, smirking.

“And I see you are prepared tonight,” she replied just as dryly, returning the smirk. She noticed that he had put on something much more flattering this time, a tight-fitting shirt that accentuated his athletic upper body in combination with some perfectly cut trousers that hinted at him being rather well-endowed; it of course distracted her mind for a moment. She blushed rather deeply when she realised that he had probably put it on for her, and for exactly that effect. Still, she liked immensely what she saw.

“I might as well look good on our nightly _date_ ,” he replied, and joined her at the table, looking amused at her still blushed cheeks. “I mean this could go on for a while for all we know...”

“ _Date_...” She chuckled, and then pointed at the beer bottles next to her, kept cool with a nice little Cooling Charm. “Come, sit down.”

“What? No throwing me out tonight?” he replied teasingly, and sat down opposite her.

“I thought I could try decent conversation for once...”

“Sara told me that you two were talking about me during her coffee break.” And to his amusement, he saw her blush deeply again. “I hope she only told you the good stuff.”

“She did.” Avoiding his gaze, she opened the case file in front of her. “So, I did tell Harry and Ron about your observation, and they had found some new information about all those cases. I thought it might interest you as well, since we are both concerned...”

He nodded, and started opening the bottles. “Go on,” he beckoned her, interested in what she had found out about their situation, and then took a first gulp, while listening to her.

“They found out that the whole thing was a love spell that had gone spectacularly wrong, though they couldn't say yet what exactly went wrong, nor why you showed up a night earlier than the others.”

“And what did _you_ find?”

“Well, after going through the files again, and doing some further research—”

“You mean digging a bit into my life...”

“Whatever... I first figured that either one of us was the intended target, but now I think _you_ were the target of that spell.”

“You sure? I mean you really haven't done anything and you just can't remember it?”

“I'm sure.” She took a gulp from her beer, and took a closer look at him. God, now that she had done some research, it was hard not to like him; he was indeed an attentive listener, and when he wasn't downright insulting, she actually liked his rather dry sense of humour. And she was again distracted by that deliciously tight-fitting shirt, wondering for a moment how long it would take to rip it open, and how he would like to be plastered with kisses there. She shook her head to get the thought out of her mind when she noticed his amused grin. Oh yes, he had definitely done it on purpose. “So,” she then continued after a short embarrassed cough, “since it _is_ a love spell gone wrong, do you have any idea who might be responsible for it?”

He took a sip, and then shook his head. “I have absolutely no clue. As I told you on the first night, those rumours are massively exaggerated–“

She couldn't help but smile at that information, as it did fit with what his partner had told her during the coffee break. “You mean you haven't been – you know?”

He shook his head again. “Nope. I'm not the type for it,” he admitted, inspecting his beer bottle a bit closer.

“Then why does everyone believe those stories?” she asked, and to her own surprise felt surprised that those rumours weren't true.

“Zabini started them a few years ago,” he replied with a shrug. “And now they're stuck. Makes it kind of impossible to even think about asking anyone out that I might be interested in.”

“Same problem when everyone believes you to be an _old-fashioned prude._ ” Hermione took a gulp from her bottle.

“Don't get me wrong tonight, but in all honesty, it's your clothing style. It's all closed up and everything. I'm pretty sure you have a body that others would envy. I mean you have a very rare combination of both brains and body. Show it off, and the whole Ministry will be at your feet.”

No, tonight she wasn't taking it the wrong way, he sounded honest enough; instead, she started to blush again. Maybe she could change her style a bit indeed... “So you really never have disappointed anyone? No ex-girlfriend that wants to get back at you or, maybe worse, wants you back?” she then continued after another sip of her beer.

He chuckled. “You mean Pansy? Gods no, she has long since married Theo. The last thing I heard was that they are expecting. And I haven't even seen her _in bloody ages_...”

“I heard that both Greengrass sisters tried their luck with you?”

“Then you know more than I do. Zabini had them both, and he told me that he much preferred Astoria. I only ever exchanged a few words with them at gatherings, since all pure-blood families are related with each other to a certain degree...” He sighed, letting shine through that he hated those gatherings.

She smiled softly. “Now I'm just taking guesses... Lavender, the Patil twins maybe? Some Slytherin girl that saw her chance?”

He mocked a groan when heard all those names. “Lavender? Really? You think I would take on something your ex had had his hands on?”

She chuckled. “True.”

“But now that you mention it... There was someone at work.” He scratched his head, hoping it would help his memory. “I mean one of my former office partners before I got Sara. Merlin, if only I could recall what she looked like... I only remember that she was always a bit too eager, and always got a bit too close for my taste.”

“And you were never tempted?”

“Gods, no. I think I even told her to stop in a rather rough manner, but she really pissed me off with her behaviour. After that, she requested an office change.”

“I'm not surprised that she would. You can be rather intimidating, you know?”

“You never were.”

“Why should I be?” she replied, and shrugged her shoulders. “I usually was annoyed, but never intimidated. It takes a lot more than your creative use of swearwords to intimidate me...”

He chuckled. “Oh yes. You give back as good as you receive. Actually, that's something I like in a woman...”

 

**Friday**  
That evening, Hermione was in an especially good mood, and she was humming again. “Tall, blond, dark, and lean; rough, and tough, and strong, and mean...” She had been humming that particular line all day ever since she had discovered that nice large cup of coffee with the exact amount of milk she liked in it on her desk that morning, with a nice handwritten thank you note from Malfoy. In the P.S. he had added that he would be sorry if the counter-spell had been found before this evening; and in the P.P.S. he had added that he would bring a bottle of Firewhisky from his collection for their next date. So, whenever she had read that note, she had started to smile broadly; every time it was like something to look forward to, and it was most definitely a motivation to get through her seemingly endless day of meetings, discussions, and new information. And there had been a lot of new information that she had only been able to sort it out properly once she got back home that evening. There was one little piece of information that she was more than eager to share with Malfoy, mostly to see his reaction – that the original caster had mixed up a single line in the love spell that was used, so that the intended victim ended up in the bed of _his_ true love, instead of landing in the bed of the original caster, as _her_ true love. _His true love_ , those words of course still echoed through her head now, when she got ready for their late-night date. And like every evening this week, as soon as the clock on her fireplace showed half past ten, she felt the air charging up like in a storm, the thunder rolling in her bedroom moments later, with just a minimal amount of swearing following.

“Thanks for the coffee this morning,” she greeted him with a welcoming smile when he finally stepped out of her bedroom. “And thanks for the note.”

“We had a nice evening yesterday, I thought it appropriate.” He stopped in his tracks when he could finally see her in full. “I see you're having a _date_ tonight,” he commented on her looks in a highly appreciative tone. Yes, that was what he had meant the evening before; she had the body to show it off. And of course he was sure that she had done it on purpose for tonight.

“And I can see you like it.” Hermione took a turn to give him the full view of her dress, and especially the nicely accentuated backside. She had remembered on her way home that she still owned that burgundy coloured dress, buried deep in her wardrobe, and it still fit her wonderfully. Now seeing his reaction to it, she knew why she had kept it all those years; his rather smitten-looking reaction was honest, and it made her smile broadly.

“Oh, I definitely do,” he replied, taking her in for another moment. Gorgeous was the word he would use to describe her, though she might not believe him right now. “And I brought something to go with it, as promised.” He held up the bottle of Firewhisky he had mentioned in his note.

With a smile, she pointed to the sofa. “Let's sit down then. I have some good news–”

“You found the culprit?” He didn't even bother hiding his disappointment that he would now have to find another reason to keep visiting her; he had enjoyed their previous night far too much to just stop now. With a small sigh, he sat down, surprised at how comfortable the sofa was, but not surprised at all that she already had a couple of glasses on her sofa table.

“Yes,” she confirmed smiling, and sat down next to him, leaving only inches between them, almost touching even. “You were right with your hunch about your former work partner. Harry and Ron went through the list of your former office partners – you do realise that you only ever had witches as office partners?”

“Now that you mentioned it,” he replied dryly, while opening the bottle of Firewhisky. “Who was it?”

“Her name's Fawley–”

“Fawley?” he asked surprised, filling the glasses, and then handed her one. “Yes, now I remember her. That was the one I meant yesterday. Dark blonde hair, brown eyes, slender figure. Nah, as I told you, not my type...”

“What's your type then?” she asked curiously, and took a first sip from her glass. “Wow, that's smooth...”

He nodded, smiling. “You know, I prefer them highly intelligent, screaming and pointing a tooth brush at me when I show up in their bedroom unexpectedly.” And especially looking so bloody gorgeous in that dress...

Hermione hid her blushing cheeks by taking another sip of her Firewhisky. “Then I hope you're not too surprised about the next piece of information. Fawley said that she had mixed up a single line that originally read that the caster's true love should show up in their bed, but instead she mistakenly changed it, so that it now read that the victim was supposed to show up in the bed of _his true love._ ” As soon as she had spoken those last few words, she watched him go pale and stare at her apprehensively. “I-It's true then?” she asked quietly when she noticed that he started to look humiliated about it despite their previous banter.

He nodded slowly, then put his glass back on the table, and stood up to leave. It had been fun joking about it, but right now he still felt as if he was caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't be, and too vulnerable for his liking; he simply wasn't sure about her intentions.

Hermione got up as well to stop him from leaving. “Draco, please wait. I'm sorry for having been so blunt about it.” She grabbed his hand, and intertwined her fingers with his. “Please stay. I didn't mean to hit you like that, okay?”

He nodded, somewhat holding his breath, and focusing his mind on the touch of her hand to distract himself from the urge to flee this situation.

“Look, I'm not really good at those kind of things, and I-I don't quite know how to put it in words, really,” she started with a soft, quiet voice. “It's been an interesting week to say the least, and I've learned a few things, you know? Not just about the case, or about you – things that astonished me, to be honest – but also about myself. God, how can I put this?” She sighed.

“Hermione–”

“Let me finish, okay?” she interrupted him gently, smiling at his use of her first name. “Look, I actually quite like the person you hide beneath that insulting facade. I was probably so much in denial myself that I didn't really dare to look past that facade, you know? I-It was easier to just deal with that instead of asking myself why you could annoy me so easily all the time. I thought about that all night, and I realised that I do really like you very much, and in a similar way as you like me, Draco.” She tried to smile as warmly as she could, squeezing his hand tightly.

In response to her words, he just pulled her into an embrace, feeling immensely relieved to hear that. He had never dared to hope that she would return his feelings in any way; that was why he had preferred playing the arrogant git around her, just to keep his heart from being shattered should she reject him. “Thanks,” was all he could whisper in that moment, holding her tightly, and feeling her arms being wrapped around his waist.

“It's rather ironic that it took someone else's failed love spell to make us realise our feelings, and then be courageous enough to take the chance, don't you think?” she whispered several long moments later, still comfortably snug into his arms; they just felt wonderful draped around her.

“Ironic is rather an understatement,” he replied, and breathed in deeply; he felt dizzy from the relief, though he was still trying to understand that he wasn't dreaming and that he was really so lucky to hold her in his arms right now, all his.

“You can stay tonight if you want,” she said, finally looking up, and smiled broadly when she saw him nod.

“Then you probably don't mind me doing this again,” he replied, letting go of her, only to frame her face seconds later. “I'm actually sorry about the first one, you know? I just couldn't resist–”

“Just kiss me already,” she countered, and pulled him down for better access before kissing him back, and shoved her tongue between his lips. She could actually feel him smile into the kiss, and then respond to her tongue exploring his mouth. Feeling happy, she lowly started humming that song that had been stuck in her head all week. _Hallelujah_ , indeed.

**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> The story is based on the following prompt (original wording) :  
> It's raining men! (literally!!) ... Love Spell gone wrong, Hallelujiah : )  
>  _Suggested Character(s)/Pairings:_ Rose/Scorpius or Draco/Hermione  
>  _Any optional extras:_ can include additional pairings, fun light-hearted fic
> 
> I took some inspiration from the Pointer Sisters song "It's Raining Men", such as the lines Hermione keeps humming throughout, and a few more details.


End file.
